


Saving Me

by Nitramoron



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-18
Updated: 2012-09-18
Packaged: 2017-11-14 13:31:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/515721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nitramoron/pseuds/Nitramoron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Tavros is the only one who makes Gamzee feel like he belongs on Earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'M SORRY IF THE FORMATTING IS FUCKED UP, MY COMPUTER HATES ME.

I remember the first time I saw him, which is unusual. I’m usually too baked to retain any information, which says just how important this moment was in the short, fucked up timeline called Gamzee Makara’s fucked up life.

It was raining. How clichéd, right? That day there was a huge fucking downpour, which was not unusual in our small Washington town. I was strolling across the street towards my favorite little café, not giving a shit about the water soaking me to my core. In fact, I had a huge, stoned smile on my drenched face as I took my time making my way into the small café. There was no way I was actually happy, contrary to the constant grin on my face—that was just the drugs constantly in my system. No, I hated everything. I hated life. Everything upset me. I was in such a state of depression that there was nothing to live for. It was all a façade I put on so that my friend Vriska didn’t get worried about me. She suspected I wasn’t happy, but I made her forget her worries. I was the only person she legitimately cared for, all because I saved her from a mad dog when we were kids. It was all so long ago. She was a total bitch to everyone that wasn’t me, though.

Anyway, back to the café. There was only one other customer when I passed through the threshold, so I noticed him right away. He was sitting in his wheelchair, a plain old thing with a brown backpack draped across the handlebars that looked like it had definitely seen better days, pathetically arguing with the man behind the counter.

“But, u-uhm, I ordered a, uh, grande cinnamon latte… uhm, you, uh, y-you seem to have, uh, given me… given me a caramel one, so I, uh… I demand you..you give me what I, uh, what I ordered. I mean, uh, if.. if you want to?” he whimpered, cringing away from the man behind the counter.

“Listen to me… sir.” He said, adding the ‘’sir” with a pained look and clenched teeth, like he would liked to have called the boy something way worse and less appropriate. “You ordered a grande. Caramel. Latte. Look, it even says so on the receipt.” He said to the customer, speaking as if the boy was a preschooler who needed explaining why it was inappropriate to eat fucking glue and pointing to a scribble on the receipt.

“U-uh…”

“No. Not ‘uh.’ You got what you ordered; you got what you paid for. I’m not replacing it because you lacked the brains to order what you wanted. Now go away,” he said, making a shooing motion at the boy, who whimpered.

I walked up to them, sliding in front of the whimpering wheelchair boy to make my order. “Hey, Karkat.” I greeted the man, broadening my lazy smile and running a hand through my drenched black hair, and he grunted at me.

“What do you want, idiot?” he growled, though not entirely unkindly. Karkat was my friend from the local high school. We smoked together between classes sometimes. He wasn’t always a total dick, just usually.

“My usual. Oh, and a grande cinnamon latte.” I said, nodding my head along to a beat that was playing inside my head. I heard a little whimper behind me, and turned to study the kid I was buying a drink for.

He was tall, or he would have been if he weren’t in that chair. Maybe not anywhere near as tall as me, seeing as I’m a bit of a giant with my skinny 6’11’’ frame, but he still seemed to have some height. He had very long legs, clad in skinny jeans that made them look like the toothpicks they were. They were unmoving and sad looking. He was Hispanic, with big, fearful brown eyes and thick brown hair cut into a short, adorable little mohawk. His skin was soft-looking and light brown, without any spots but a long scar from his eyebrow to his jaw and thin black rings through his septum and lip. Overall, he was cute, despite dressing like a sort of insanely skinny emo-hipster kid, but I’m not one to discriminate due to stupid shit like that. He looked around my age.

“Drinks, Gamz.” Karkat said from behind me, and I realized that I’d zoned out and had been staring at the poor kid for an undetermined amount of time. It happened a lot, so I shrugged it off and turned to Karkat.

“Thanks, brother.” I said with a huge grin, taking the two cups from him and nodding happily. “What do I motherfucking owe you?”

“It’s on the house.” He said with a sigh and a touch of a smile, softening his angry features.

“Nawh, motherfucker. What do I owe you?” I said. I knew I could afford it—my piece-of-shit father did leave me a good chunk of money in place of his love. Pfffft.

“C’mon, Gamzee—“

“I’m giving you something.” I said, tossing a twenty on the counter and turning, ignoring his protests. “Here, kid. You’re sitting with me.” I drawled slowly, moving to behind the kid’s chair and pushing him to sit at a small red table. I sat the drinks down and took a seat across from him.

“Y-you, uh, didn’t have to do…that, mister.” He said in that small way of his, eyes wide.

“Naaahh, it’s chill. What do you motherfuckin have up and against caramel lattes?” I asked, brushing off his protest.

“I’m, uh, a-allergic. Something, uh, inside of it, uh, makes me really… sick.” He stuttered.

“That sucks and blows, motherfucker. What’s your name?” I asked, meeting his dark eyes with my own bright blue ones.

“T-T-T-Tavros. Tavros Nitram.”

“Bitchtits wicked. I’m Gamzee motherfucking Makara.” I said, beaming as I stretched out my hand and he shook it.

“S-s-s-sweet!”

“Why do you talk like that, brother? All nervous and shit?”

“I, um, I think, um… people are going t-to h-h-hurt me.” He said, shuddering.

“Why would you up and think that? Be tranquil, motherfucker.” I said with my calm grin, looking at him from beneath droopy eyelids. He took a deep breath and downed his drink in record time. I sipped mine in a relaxed way, the weed I had earlier still calming me immensely.

“Okay.” He said, and then we sat in comfortable silence as I finished my drink and then demolished his rejected caramel latte. I stood up and stretched languidly, yawning.

“What now, motherfucker?” I asked him, looking down at his tanned face.

“U-uh.. you s-still want to, um, hang out with me?” he asked incredulously.

“Of fucking course, Tavbro! What do you want to do?”

“Can.. we, uh, go to, uh, your house? Maybe? T-the movers are still p-putting things into my house.”

“Yes!” I said, putting my hands on the worn leather on his chair’s handlebars and walking him towards the exit. I held the door for him as he wheeled himself through, still looking unbelieving that I wanted to hang out with him. Cute little kid. He pulled a small umbrella out of his worn backpack and held it up, and I slumped over to fit under it with him.

“How old are you, kid?” I asked quietly, pushing him on the sidewalk towards where I lived.

“S-s-sixteen. Well, um, in two weeks.”

“WHOAH! What are we doing for your birthday, Tavbro? The motherfucking possibilities are endless!” I started to chatter, excited for some reason. I had no idea why I was so excited—I never got excited about anything, except maybe my weekly meetings with my dealer. I was a pathetic motherfucker.

“U-uh, y-you want to, uh, be with me? On my birthday?!” he said, practically sliding out of his big gothic boots with excitement.

“Yeah, motherfucker. Tavbro, we’re going to be great friends. I can already tell.” I said. He was quiet for a long while, and the only sounds were the occasional slosh of his chair through a puddle and the raindrops slapping against the material of Tavros’s cute little duck-printed umbrella. 

“Gamzee?” he said after what seemed like hours of comfortable silence. We were almost to my building by then.

“Yeah, brother?”

“Why do you want to be my friend?” he said with no stuttering at all, shocking me with the seriousness in his voice.

“Because you’re bitchtits wicked, Tavbro. And completely fucking adorable!” I said, leaning forward and booping the tip of his nose with my finger.

“R-r-really?!” he squeaked with all the excitement of a scruffy little kitten presented with a particularly amusing new toy.

“Yeah! Why are you all up and disbelieving, Tavbrother?” I was suddenly wondering what exactly made him like this, not only scarred and paralyzed but a complete social wreck.

“No one has… ever l-liked me. Ever.”

“What?” I asked as I pushed him into my building and into the elevator, pressing the button to the top floor and punching in the keycode that would admit me to my loft.

“I’m no-not a very… social person. I never, um, was.”

“Damn.” I said quietly. We chatted about nothing in particular as we arrived in my huge personal loft my dick dad left to me before going to Japan for work.

“So, you ready for the grand tour?” I drawled with a lidded grin.

“S-sure?” Tavros said unsurely, looking up at me and fiddling with his double lip rings.

I said nothing as I pushed him into the main room, a large, messy space with diamond-patterned purple wallpaper and black hardwood floors, which were strewn with clothes and various other objects.. There were several large black leather couches set up in front of a huge media system, consisting of a few top-notch game systems, several movie and game towers, a blu-ray player, a multi-speaker iPod dock, and a huge flat-screen television.

“Living room.” I remarked, grinning a little bigger as he let out a small noise from the back of his throat. I proceeded to wheel him into various other rooms, showing him the mess of a cubicle kitchen, small bathroom (he giggled at my custom-print shower curtain, which had the clown zombie from Zombieland printed on it. The sound was heavenly.), closets full of random things, and finally, my room.

My room was only slightly smaller than the living room, with walls I painted myself (gray with a spattering of random, colorful monsters and words that meant a lot to me or represent memories that stand out when I was painting and not high, meaningless but motherfucking sick-looking gnomes and rainbows when I was) and a huge computer stand where my desk-top and Macbook rested, along with a huge sound system. My bed was in the middle of the room, a mattress resting on a coal-black frame, unmade but decked out with premium black sheets and a fluffy purple comforter. You couldn’t see my floor through the covering of clothes, magazines, and food wrappers dusting it.

“My room!” I told my little bro, grinning at him and resting my hand on his shoulder as he looked around with an amazed expression.

“Did y-y-you paint, um.. this y-yourself?” 

“Over the years, motherfuckin’ yes!”

“That’s s-s-so cool!” he breathed. I let him look around himself, sitting on my bed and watching him amusedly.

“What do you want to do now, Tavbro?’’ I asked him after a while.

“W-w-want to, uh, play v-video games?” he asked me excitedly.

“Yeah, motherfucker. C’mon.”

I let him pick out the game and we played for a long time before I interrupted it.

“Hey Tav?” I said to him, pausing our game and rubbing my temples as the splitting headache came back. I always had horrid headaches when I wasn’t high, and my depression climbed. Ergh.

“Yeah?” he responded, taking a sip of the grape Faygo I offered him as soon as he came in (he let out a long moan when he took his first sip; apparently they didn’t sell the magic elixir in the small New Mexico town he was from..)

“I’m going to smoke weed now, okay?”

The little motherfucker actually did a fucking spit take, grape Faygo going all over my black couch. “WHAT?”

“What?” I asked as I walked over into the kitchen, getting into the beehive cookie jar where I kept everything at.

“You do drugs?!” he said incredulously

“Yeah. They motherfuckin’ up and make me feel better.” I said, getting my joint ready and walking back into the living room, lighting it. It was quiet for a long time, then Tavros looked at me.

“Gamzee?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I… try that?”

He coughed a little his first time, but he was a natural pro at it. Hours later we were high as fuck, talking about motherfucking miracles. He ended up staying the night, and the night after that, and the night after that. Apparently his parents were both dead and he lived with his sister Terezi, who was a law student a few years older and a total fucking nutcase but didn't mind if he didn't come home for weeks at a time.   
We were fast friends after that, and I showed him around school the following week. He was in most of my classes (which I was failing. Oops.) and my lunch. We were virtually inseparable, and all my friends took a liking to him as well. I didn’t pry into why he was paralyzed, figuring he would tell me when he was motherfucking good and ready. I planned a huge party for his birthday, and all of our friends were invited, which was a good many. I was a man of many friends. Easily likeable? I thought I was annoying as fuck but they seemed to like me.  
And for once, I was excited.


	2. Chapter 2

I remember the first time I realized I had feelings for Tavros Nitram, which is, yet again, unusual.

It was Friday night, April twenty-seventh, Tavros’s birthday. It was about two a.m. and the party I decided to throw was fully underway. Everyone was high or drunk, and not one of the several hundred people crammed into my flat could hear themselves think over the loud music. It would have been amazing that none of my neighbors had called the cops if they weren’t all partying with us, even the crazy elderly couple from the room under me. It was truly a motherfucking sight to be seen, but at the time, I wasn’t seeing it. I was curled up in my biggest broom closet (the only one Tav could wheel his chair through) with a shitload of weed and the man of the night, Tavros fucking Nitram. We were high as fuck, laughing about nothing. I was sitting on his lap comfortably somehow, although I was about a foot taller than him, sharing a joint.

Suddenly it hit me, through the fog of my high—mine and Tavros’s faces were less than two inches apart. I could feel his breath hit my face as he laughed at nothing in particular. Before I knew what was happening I was leaning forward and holy motherfucking fuck I was kissing him, right on the lips. His laughing halted and he didn’t move at all, still as a silent fucking statue and motherfuck that was such a bad idea he was going to hate me and never talk to me again and ohhhhh he was kissing back suddenly and it felt so damn good I even let out a little moan. My hand went up to his cool face, resting right on top of his scar. I was so caught up in what was happening that I didn’t realize his cool tongue was tracing my lips until my best bro let out a frustrated little groan and ungracefully shoved his tongue into my mouth. I spluttered in shock before tracing his tongue with my own and invading his mouth, which was, surprisingly, cold and, unsurprisingly, tasted like the vegan bacon we had for dinner, vodka, and herb.

It lasted for a long while before he broke away, finally realizing what was happening. I tried to follow him, going to rest my forehead on his. He gasped and pushed me off of him, wheeling back away from me like I was the plague with a horrified look on his face.

“Motherfucker, what’s wrong?” I asked, out of breath. “That was amazing!”

“N-n-n-no… no. That, uh, that was… no. I can’t do this, Gamzee. I-I’m sorry.” He gasped and twisted the doorknob, nudging it open with some difficulty before wheeling out and slamming it in my face.

 

TAVROS

The next few days were, uh, horrible. I was hiding from---no, that’s not right, I wasn’t hiding from Gamzee, I was, uh, avoiding him. Every time he spotted me, um, wheeling around in the halls, he loped towards me as urgently as he could in his drugged-up state. I had enough, uh, upper body strength and practiced speed when it came to, uh, wheeling myself around, to keep me as far away from him as humanly, uh, possible. I was always the, uh, first person in the classes we had together, and I positioned myself so that there was, um, nearly no chance I’d be stuck beside him. I skipped lunch, too. Gamzee would pass me carefully, um, folded notes covered in alternating purple letters, but I always, uh, got rid of them before I was tempted to read them.

I wasn’t mad at Gamzee, uh, not exactly. No, I was… frightened. I was always bullied, beaten, put down for, uh, for being different, with my chair and my looks and my... stutter. I knew it would only be worse if, uh, if I liked boys, which… I did. I liked Gamzee, at least. I had feelings for him, and I was, uh… I was running away from them. I didn’t want things to get worse. I was being,um… I was being selfish, and I hated myself for it. I hated myself for what I was doing to him.

It hit me when I was sitting at my kitchen table eating dinner one Thursday afternoon, that I needed to stop being so selfish and tell Gamzee that I… um.. that I liked him, too. My feelings were so strong, and I realized that he would protect me. Gamzee wouldn’t let people, uh, hurt me, and he wouldn’t either. I had to trust him and make a move, and that’s exactly what I did.

 

GAMZEE

He hated me. I motherfucking ruined everything. I don’t care what the motherfuck Karkat said (GAMZEE, STOP BEING SUCH AN IGNORANT ASSWIPE. HE DOESN’T HATE YOU, SHITSTAIN. HE IS JUST CONFUSED. GIVE HIM TIME.), my motherfucking best bro hated me because I up and acted on those sick feelings I was holding in me. I’d liked him since we met, really. He was such a cute little motherfucker, all wide brown eyes and tanned skin. He grew to be such a big motherfucking part of my life, my miracle. I was actually happy when I was with him, and I ruined it.

That train of thought is what motherfucking led me to where I was after one horrible day at school, of Feferi telling me to cheer up and Karkat insulting me for motherfucking worrying him. I stood in front of the grimy mirror in my personal bathroom, looking at myself in disgust. I had a hand hovering in front of me, filled up to the motherfucking brim with little pink pills. The doctor prescribed them for me a while back when I up and mentioned I had a little motherfucking trouble sleeping, but I never fucking touched them. I don’t take pills that aren’t my little miracle makers. Even the wide variety of motherfucking drugs I had on tap that usually made me feel like less of a goddamned waste of precious motherfucking space on this planet weren’t touching how much I hated myself. I had enough of this. I lost the only reason I had for living, my motherfucking Tavbro, and it was all my motherfucking fault. I was done living.

I scrawled a few words on a sheet of cheery pink motherfucking paper in my trademark purple ink saying that I was done with life and fuck everything. I doubted anyone would find my worthless body for a long, long time—my dad was always in some other goddamned country for work, and my mom left a long, long time ago with my two motherfucking brothers. Apparently I was so worthless even when I was a toddler she didn’t want to bring me with her. Hmph.

I took one last look at myself before taking a shaky breath and lifting the pills up to my mouth, eyes closed.

That’s when my phone rang.

Techno music suddenly blared from the pocket of my polka dotted skinny jeans, just about making me up and jump out of my motherfucking skin. I roared in frustration before throwing my hands down to my pocket, pills going everywhere. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, unlocking it and glaring at the message for a moment before I realized who it was from.

gAMZEE WE NEED TO, uM, tALK, mAybe.

My breath caught in my motherfucking throat as I reread the text message over and over again before replying, hurriedly and shaking.

wHeN aNd MoThErFuCkInG wHeRe?

uM, tHE CAFÉ IN, uH, tWENTY MINUTES?

I wIlL uP aNd Be ThErE tAv

A small, hopeful grin appeared on my face. He wanted to motherfucking talk to me! The brother couldn’t up and hate me if he wanted to talk to me, right?

I rambled on inside my head before realizing that oh fuck Tavros couldn’t see me like this I need something to calm me down oh fuck I need to be there in five motherfucking minutes I need a smoke motherfucking motherfuck.

The world’s fastest motherfucking joint and a brisk walk later, I was walking through the door to the café. Tavros was sitting at the counter, ordering from Karkat, who looked livid at the fact that Tav would show his cute little motherfucking self where he worked, I guess. I walked over to where they were, a lazy grin on my face. My insides were somersaulting around a million motherfucking rainbows and my mind was a whirl, but I looked calm. Probably.

“Tavbro!” I said before going in for a hug before remembering the motherfucking reason he was ignoring me in the first place and backing up awkwardly.

“I m-missed you, Gamzee.” He said, perfect lips quirking up in a shy smile.

“So you two fuckasses are speaking again?” Karkat growled incredulously from behind us, sliding tall café cups over the counter (one cinnamon latte and one caramel. I grew a mad motherfucking affection for caramel lattes after I met Tavros. Shit’s good!)

“I up and guess so, Karbrother.” I said, usual easy grin still in place as I grabbed our drinks. I looked at Tav for confirmation, and he nodded. Karkat huffed as I turned and headed to mine and Tavros’s normal table, pushing the second chair out of the way before taking a seat opposite of it.

“So, Tavros, what’s up my brother?” I asked after he settled down.

“Gamzee, I… I, uh…” he stuttered several times before trailing off, looking up at me unsurely.

“Up and get your speech on, my invertebrother!”

“GamzeeIlikeyoubackokayIdon’thateyouIneverdidI’msorry.” He released in one long breath, not stuttering once.

I didn’t reply after sorting one word from another slowly and realizing what he just motherfucking said. I couldn’t form words, my heavily-lidded eyes widening as much as they could. His face fell after a while, and he put his hands on the wheels of his chair, ready to leave. He began to say something, but I cut him off with my motherfucking face.

Yeah, I launched myself over the table and into his motherfucking lap with surprising quickness for a stoner. I knocked our drinks over in the process, and they went everywhere, but I could motherfucking care less. I kissed him hard, and he sputtered a bit against my lips before kissing me back unsurely. His lip ring was cold against my skin.

I was positively glowing as I pulled back, sprawled out on top of our coffee-soaked red table.

“Gamzee…” he said breathlessly, his face breaking out into a huge grin.

“Boyfriends?” I asked, my hand still cradling his cheek.

“Boyfriends.” He replied steadily.

“Hey, I’m sorry to interrupt your fucking love fest, but WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU TWO SHITFUCKS THINK YOU’RE DOING?!” Karkat screamed, standing beside us, arms crossed in front of his chest. At this point the dozen or so other customers in the café were staring at us, but I didn’t motherfucking care because he motherfucking likes me back. I just grinned at Karkat and stood up, walking around Tavros’s chair and resting my hands on the handles.

Karkat screamed at us as I wheeled him out, soaked in coffee, but I wasn’t listening. I was too motherfucking happy.


End file.
